


Aftershocks

by Sashataakheru



Series: Lord Greg and His Boys AU [18]
Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Bad coping mechanisms, Biphobia, Bisexuality, Broken Hearts, Bruises, Comforting, Cuddles, D/s, Daddy/boi, Dissociation, Found Families, Getting out, Grifting, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, James Is Not Okay But He Will Be, M/M, Multi, Pain Kink, Shame, Trauma, Trust Issues, Up All Night, Whipping, bad memories, can't sleep, chosen families, conmen, leather clubs, leathermen, satefy, soft!Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 13:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: After being picked up by Greg outside a leather club, James finds himself back in a part of London he hasn't been to in years, as Greg takes care of him and offers him a place to stay.





	Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cameforthecomedy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cameforthecomedy/gifts).

> This is sort of sketchy and all over the place bc James' state of mind at this point is all over the place and he's being a terribly unreliable narrator. But I've done my best to make it coherent.

_God, why the hell am I here? I don't belong here. This isn't my place. He's ... he's too kind. And I'm just a thief. I should go before he finds out. He won't notice, right? I'll disappear into the night and he'll never see me again. I can go find someone else, someone who I can con, because I can't con this man, and if I'm still here tomorrow, he's going to find out how bad I've been, and that'll be the end of my life._

* * *

James couldn't sleep. None of this felt right. His mind was spiralling, filling with anxious thoughts he couldn't push away. He'd been desperate for a bed, for a mark, but this wasn't what he wanted. Was it?  
  
Everything was quiet, but the house was creaking and he didn't like it. Greg seemed to be fast asleep beside him, and he didn't like that, either.  
  
But that wasn't the whole reason he wanted to flee. It had been a long time since he'd been back in this neighbourhood. He'd turned his back on it for a damn good reason. And now, he was back, and scared, and desperate for a home, and trying to ignore the pain in his heart. Because all he could think about was- him. 

* * *

James hadn't realised where Greg was taking him until he noticed the houses changing. It had been a long drive home, and Greg made small talk, which at least gave James something else to think about. James tried to settle himself, but the more he sat there, the more anxious he got. Greg just seemed so big sitting beside him, and he just felt small and pathetic. He did seem kind, though. James noticed that. And he felt safe. He made James feel safe. Anxious, but safe.  
  
Because really, he shouldn't be going home with a mark he couldn't con. That was one of the first things he'd been told when he was being taught how to be a conman. It was dangerous. They didn't behave the way you wanted them to behave because they were too honest. But that didn't make him speak up and ask Greg to let him out of the car. He wanted to stay. He wanted to be safe.  
  
He didn't realise how tired he was of moving from one house to another, one mark to another, being anyone other than himself, never having a home of his own, while trying to pretend his heart hadn't been utterly shattered. He just wanted to be safe. To stop finding all the mean guys and pretending like he wasn't dying inside and being the one taken advantage of instead of them. He was good at his work, but it was emotionally taxing in a way he had never imagined it would be. He wanted to stop, to get out of that life, but he didn't know how. But maybe Greg could get him out. Maybe this is what he did want after all.  
  
He did his best not to look jittery when he realised where they were. He'd been to far too many parties here, a long time ago. Parties with - with him. With the man who'd turned him into a conman. The guilt suddenly overwhelmed him, and he wanted to simply confess everything to Greg, to tell him how bad he was, and how he shouldn't take him in, that he'd just steal from him and take advantage of him, because he didn't know how else to behave. He'd lived that way for so long, he was sure he'd forgotten how normal people have relationships. Better not waste any of his time. Best just to go and leave him in peace. That was the right thing to do, wasn't it?

* * *

James huddled into himself in the darkness, eyes wide open, duvet pulled close around his neck. At least his back wasn't hurting so much. But he could feel the ache beginning to seep into his bones, and he knew he'd be sore for at least a week.  
  
God, he was so stupid. Why did he go to that club? Why'd he sign up for a whipping? It's not like he'd owned the leathers he'd come in. He'd stolen them. Well. Not stolen. Coerced out of a mark long ago in case he ever needed them.  
  
He had to get rid of them. He couldn't let Greg know he'd stolen them. He'd be so disappointed in him. He'd probably kick him out, wouldn't he? He didn't seem like the kind of master who wanted naughty boys, and James had been very naughty indeed.  
  
He was also beginning to wonder if he had indeed seen Greg at any of the parties he'd been to. He might have seen them. He might have recognised him. Maybe that's why he picked him up. Maybe he wasn't safe here, after all.

* * *

"Well, here we are. Are you alright? You've gone quiet," Greg said as he parked the car in the garage.  
  
"Oh-oh, no, no, I'm fine. Just - tired, I think?" James said, covering his tracks.  
  
Greg smiled at him. "Yeah, you look it. I bet that pain's going to kick you in the butt sooner or later, then you'll really feel tired. Come on, I'll get you cleaned up and give you a rub down."  
  
James hung his head, because he did feel tired. "Oh, yes, of course, sir, thank you, sir."

* * *

_Everything tells me to run away. Why am I still lying here? It's not like I have much to take with me. I just need to get dressed, grab my bag and leave. That's not hard. I've done that loads of times before. Why can't I do that now? I should go. I'm not good enough for him. There's no way he can fix a mess like me. I shouldn't waste his time. _  
  
_I just wish I could get out of bed. I keep listening to every car that drives by, imagining he's coming to find me. He'll take my hands and lead me back into that world, I just know it. But I don't want to do that anymore. I can't. I'm too tired of lying to everyone. Pretending to be someone else, someone other than me. But I'll have to lie to Greg too. I can't tell him what I used to do. He'll hate me. And I don't want him to hate me. _  
  
_I guess that means I'm conning him too. God, I'm such an awful person._

* * *

James rolled over onto his stomach, gazing at the wall. He'd checked the time already: 4:17am. Everything smelled weird. Not in a bad way, necessarily. It was just the jarring moment where he was in a new place and wanted to run. He was always like this on the first night, but he usually got through it.  
  
But he wasn't sure he'd get through this one. The reason he'd run away from here before was casting a long shadow over him. He was going over every interaction, every party, every person he'd ever met with - with him, just to see if Greg was one of them. One of the ones they'd scammed. 

He didn't even stop himself crying at that point as the memories overwhelmed him. 

* * *

The house itself was, well. A little overwhelming. James had figured out that Greg was rich from the way he talked, but had been too polite to ask how. He found out as Greg walked him back around to the front of the house - "Alex doesn't like me sneaking in the back like a teenager who's been out too late", he'd explained - where James discovered that Alex was actually Greg's servant, who opened the door to them. James could tell he was a servant, and not just someone Greg lived with, because he was wearing a uniform, and, weirdly, a collar around his neck.  
  
"Good evening, Your Lordship," Alex said, offering a slight bow to his master.  
  
"Hey Alex. The fuck are you still doing up, though? I thought I told you to go to bed if I wasn't home by midnight. You need your sleep, boy," Greg said as he went inside and took his coat off.  
  
James watched Alex's demeanour change as Alex took the coat. He seemed to blush a little and wilt at the reprimand.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Your Lordship, I just - I- you know I worry. I wanted to make sure I was here for you in case you needed me when you got home," Alex said as he hung the coat up in the closet.  
  
Greg, to his credit did not seem bothered. But that wasn't what James was fixating on. It was how Alex addressed him. Your Lordship. A shiver travelled down James' spine. _Greg was nobility? He was an actual Lord?_ Fucking hell. His mind began freaking out right then as he plotted ways to escape. He felt trapped. He stood there, not really knowing what to do.  
  
Greg reached over and gently cupped Alex's cheek. James guessed they might be lovers, but wasn't going to say anything. It didn't feel like his place to say so.  
  
"You're such a good servant, Alex. I really don't deserve you," Greg said.  
  
"Thank you, sir. How was the club tonight? Did you bring someone home? Do I need to make up the bed for him?" Alex said.  
  
"Yeah it was good tonight, good crowd. And yeah, I found another lost boy. Do up the spare room tomorrow, though, don't bother about it now. I gotta take care of him after the whipping he got, and you, my little friend, are going to go straight up to bed, understood?" Greg said.  
  
Alex seemed to resist for a moment before he gave in. "Of course. Will you need any supper?"  
  
"No. Go to bed, Alex, that's an order. I'll leave breakfast instructions for you when you get up. At eight. I need you well-rested, boy. You know what it's like when I bring a new boy home. Things might be a bit off-schedule for a while until he settles in," Greg said.  
  
Alex bowed his head. "Yes, sir, understood. Thank you, sir. Goodnight, sir," Alex said.  
  
"Goodnight, Alex," Greg said.  
  
James noticed that Greg gave Alex a soft, lingering kiss before he let him go. He watched Alex head upstairs, idly wondering what would happen next. Greg didn't wait though. He simply began walking down the corridor, gesturing for James to follow.  
  
"Come on, then, let's take care of you first. I want to get a good look at what Janus did to you when he whipped you tonight," Greg said.  
  
"Oh, yes, sure, thank you," James said.

* * *

James slipped out of bed like a snake and snuck in behind the curtains to gaze out of the window. He could see the park across the road, took note of all the lights, wondered how long it would take him to pack and leave without being heard. There were plenty of train stations nearby. It wouldn't be that hard to disappear. He'd slip away and Greg would never find him. But he'd have to go soon if he wanted to leave. He was running out of night.  
  
But something about the quiet stillness of sitting in the window calmed him. Maybe this was safe, after all. Greg didn't seem to want to hurt him. He wanted to take care of him. When was the last time someone genuinely took care of him? Perhaps when he was a child?  
  
He drew his knees up to his chest. Closed his eyes. "No," he breathed. "No, you will not find me here. Go away. I'm done with you."

* * *

"Just lie down here on the bench, please, and take your shirt off, so I can see how bad the bruises are," Greg said.  
  
Greg had led him into a playroom, a sex one, and he was gesturing to a bench in one corner. James hesitated, because it was clearly designed to restrain people. Maybe that's what was going to happen to him? He'd get strapped down and tortured?  
  
"I'm not going to chain you up, just look at your back. It's just easier to do it there because I can't be bothered getting the massage table out at this hour. Just lie on it and I'll take care of the pain," Greg said, clearly noticing James' hesitation.  
  
"Oh, sorry, yes, sir, right away, sir," James said, feeling compelled to obey.  
  
He pulled his shirt off, and lay down on the bench. It was padded, and flat, but perhaps not the best design for lying on his stomach. This brought all the pain back, and he had to hide how much it hurt as Greg began gently brushing his fingers along the bruises.  
  
"He clearly did a good job with you, that's for sure, but I bet it hurts, doesn't it? It's alright if it hurts. That's what it's meant to do," Greg said.  
  
"Yeah, it hurts, but I needed to hurt, it's fine," James said.  
  
"You needed to hurt? Is it like catharsis for you then?" Greg said.  
  
"Something like that. Things... I haven't had the best life, I'll be honest with you there. It just ... It helps with the pain. Being whipped. Because it goes away. The other kind doesn't. It sort of helps, but it sort of doesn't. It's a pretty shit coping mechanism, but nothing else worked," James said, the words flowing out of him without him necessarily being conscious of deciding to be so open with Greg.  
  
James flinched as he felt Greg stroking his hair gently then, and it felt strange. He couldn't remember the last time - well, no. He remembered alright. Tenderness just reminded him of-of him.  
  
"Yeah, I figured you'd seen some shit. I pegged you as a lost boy as soon as you came in to the club. Felt you needed an out. Out of what, I didn't know, but an out nonetheless of whatever it is you're running from. Believe me, I can tell. I've seen enough boys over the past thirty years to know the look of them. If you need somewhere to stay, I've got a spare bed. It's yours for as long as you want it while you sort yourself out," Greg said.  
  
"That would - yes, that, I would appreciate that, sir, thank you," James said, recognising that he really did need to just stop and sort himself out, and this might be the safest place to do that. 

* * *

It's not that he wasn't grateful for Greg for taking care of the bruises, but while he was rubbing some kind of salve into his back, and massaging his body, James dissociated. Not-not in a bad way. Just- it was how he coped when things hurt too much and he didn't want to deal with the pain. Greg was being too kind, giving him too much tenderness, and the pain was flaring badly. It just reminded him of all the other times he'd been hurt, and he just wanted to run away from the memories, to become someone else like he'd done for the past three years and reinvent himself. To become someone who wasn't hurting like James was.

* * *

_It's like being under the ocean. Like drowning. I don't know how to surface. There's an iron ball attached to my leg and I'm just sinking. How do I stop sinking? I don't want to drown. I just... I just want it to stop hurting. I just want to stop being hurt._  
  
_Who even am I? What's my name? Who even am I anymore? Perhaps James is just as much a fiction as all the other names I've ever used. I never thought being other people would be so hard. I've lost all sense of who I am now. I'm just here, drowning, whoever I am._

* * *

James hadn't wanted to be touched, but he found he wanted to be held afterwards, once Greg had finished with his back. He was feeling utterly vulnerable, and he needed Greg to hold him and keep him safe and bring him back into his body. So they retreated to the pile of cushions in the playroom, and James cuddled up in his arms, trying to get his head back into a vaguely normal place.  
  
The thing he was most aware of now was the smell of leather mixed with sweat and cigarettes. He'd never been the sort of boy who'd found any of those things comforting, but in that moment, somehow, it was just what he needed. Something about Greg's energy was making him feel safe, and he needed that.  
  
He couldn't help being drawn to all the pins on Greg's vest, seeing all these logos and crests and symbols he didn't know. Greg was the first leatherman he'd ever been with. Well, no, that wasn't strictly true. He'd been to plenty of open leather clubs, but mostly for the pain he could get there. He'd never hooked up with anyone. You really had to know someone to get into this leather world, that had been James' experience. No one seemed to be interested in this weird boy who turned up every so often to volunteer for a public whipping. It was a world he was drawn to, but not one he'd been invited to join.  
  
"What are all these for? Why do you need so many pins?" James said.  
  
Greg looked down at him as he noticed James very gently touching the pins, gazing at them with fascination.  
  
"Well, there's only one I really need, but well, they're all the clans I'm a member of. The others, on the other side, are from friends and meets and other events. Have you never seen these kind of pins before?" Greg said.  
  
"Well, sort of, but not up close. Why have you got pins for them, though? Why would a club need pins?" James said, unable to resist the chance to ask all the questions that he'd been saving for just this moment.  
  
"Well, they're clubs. They show who's a member and who isn't. That's what they're for. But there's only one that means the world to me, and it's this one," Greg said, indicating the top-most pin closest to James.  
  
James looked at it. It was a gold bull head with silver horns, and the star was done in red. There were two names written on it, but James didn't know what they meant or who they belonged to. "Oh, that one's pretty. Why's that one special then?"  
  
"Well, that's my family. They trained me. They're the ones who found me when I was a lost boy," Greg said.  
  
James gave him a disbelieving look. "No way, you aren't a lost boy. No way. You're, like, a Lord or something. No way have you had it as bad as me."  
  
Greg smiled. "I mean, you're right, I definitely haven't had a tough life by any means, but my biggest problem was that I didn't fit anywhere, physically or otherwise. I couldn't do sport, wasn't really clever enough to be acceptable, all I really wanted to do was acting. I didn't care about the rest. It's a very cliquey world, you know? I just never got on with my peers, or really with most of the places where I tried to fit in. Gay clubs were the only place I ever felt truly like myself. But I'm not gay, I'm bi, so I never really fit there, either, but then girls wouldn't date me if I came out to them. It wasn't until they found me in a gay club and took me home that I finally found a place that really, truly felt like home. They're my family in every sense of the word. I wouldn't be here without them. Come on, let me show you something."  
  
Greg got up and James followed him over to the far wall, where all the storage drawers and cupboards were, and opened up a cupboard in the centre. This revealed something that looked more like a shrine, with a whole bunch of portraits hung on the back wall, and several other smaller ones on the bottom, including a picture of Alex, along with a statue of a bull's head that resembled the pin. It was gently lit by a pair of lights attached to the top of the cupboard, giving off a warm glow that caught the glinting stars painted on the inside on dark blue walls.  
  
"That's a big family," James said, gazing at all the pictures.  
  
Greg pointed to the largest portrait, depicting what James thought was the most beautiful black man he'd ever seen. "That's Asterion, the founder of the house. I never knew him. He'd died long before I was around. He was American, came over here in the 60s, fell in love, and opened a bar, the House of Asterion, which then became the clan. It all kind of went from there, really."  
  
"So who trained you, then? Who are the rest of these people?" James said.  
  
"He's the only one you need to know right now. That's King Leo. He trained me," Greg said, pointing at a picture of a man who somehow seemed to look even bigger than Greg did. "He's the one who found me in a gay club when I was 21 and took me home with him."  
  
"Why do you have, like, weird names? Don't they have proper names?" James said.  
  
"They're scene names, for anonymity. In some clubs, you choose your name or just use your first name, but in our family, your scene name is given to you by your Daddy, the one who trains you. I was named Minotaur. They're really only used exclusively in a handful of private leather clubs these days though. You don't really need them now. We don't do Tops and bottoms in our clan, by the way, just Daddies and boys. And these boys here," Greg indicated all the pictures surrounding the bull statue, "are all my boys. The others are all other clan members not directly connected to my lineage. We try to get together a couple of times a year, since we all live all over the place."  
  
"So Alex is one of your boys? I thought he was your servant?" James said, confused.  
  
"Oh, he's both. He's a service sub. He's my paid servant, but also my submissive. Not every boy gets to join the family, though, but I knew Alex belonged here. Maybe you do too. Maybe I'll be adding your picture here with all the others if we get on well enough. How does that sound?" Greg said.  
  
James was actually stunned. He'd never expected Greg to simply invite him in like this, to open up that world he'd been so curious about for so long. "Oh, Greg, I would love that. I don't really have anyone else. Don't really have friends, don't really have lovers. It's just me. I'm all alone. You'd really let me join your family? Even though you don't know me?"  
  
"Yeah, I'd let you join if we felt it was the right thing to do. Why don't you just think on that while you settle down? You look like you need a safe place to get your head straight before you can sort out what you want to do next. A lot of lost boys need a week or so for the shock to wear off, particularly if they've been homeless. You just sleep and eat and wash and take care of yourself. Come and talk to me whenever you want. Go for a walk in the park if you like. Think of this as your home for as long as you need it, alright?" Greg said.  
  
"Home? I've got a-a home now? Really?" James said, needing to know this was real.  
  
"Yeah, this is your home now, if you want it," Greg said.  
  
"I do want it, I do! Thank you so much, Greg," James said as he hugged him tight, overwhelmed by his kindness.  
  
And this time, when Greg gently stroked his hair, James didn't flinch. He simply smiled.  
  


* * *

_I should ask him to whip me. He'd do that for me, wouldn't he? He's a Dom, he had some whips. It'd be nice if I could feel the pain again. But he might not let me. He seems to care a lot about his boys and takes care of them. I wonder what that's like? I wonder if he'll still want to take me into his family once he knows what I'm really like. I'm not sure I really deserve it. How do I know he won't just kick me out once he's tired of me? I can't expect him to fix me. I'm better off alone. Alone means I don't get hurt._

* * *

  
A hand gently touching his shoulder startled James awake _(Awake? When had he fallen asleep?)_, and he went straight into panic mode as he turned to see who had disturbed him, fighting with the curtain as it seemed to begin to close in too much, making him feel suffocated. He backed off and leant against the glass warily as Greg smiled at him, pulling the curtain back a little to look at him.  
  
"There you are. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I heard you get out of bed. Are you alright?" Greg said.  
  
Greg's tone was soft and full of concern for him, which James wasn't expecting. It was still dark, James noted, and Greg hadn't turned on any lights in his bedroom. The only light came from the streetlights below, lighting up Greg's face.  
  
"Oh, uh, couldn't sleep. But it's not weird, I'm just always like this on my first night in a new place. I just - need time to adjust," James said.  
  
Greg shifted the curtain and moved beside him, sitting in the window with him. There was silence for a while before Greg spoke. "It's quite a view, isn't it?"  
  
James nodded. "Yeah, it is. It's peaceful."  
  
"How's the pain? It can't be good sleeping on the floor like that," Greg said.  
  
James shrugged awkwardly. "I mean, I guess I'm just used to it?"  
  
"Do you always want to be used to it?" Greg said.  
  
James shook his head, tried to fight off the tears. "No, no, I don't, but I don't know- how, I can't just-"  
  
James couldn't find the words he needed, but Greg didn't push him for an explanation. Instead, he gently encouraged him to sit in his lap, and James shivered as Greg's arms closed tight around him. It made him calm down and feel safe, feeling the panic slowly dissipate and his heart rate begin to drop.  
  
"It's alright, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to push you. I know this can be hard, but you'll be alright. You may not believe it right now, but I've seen it in too many boys to doubt it'll happen to you too. Just take it slow. There's no timeline, no deadlines, I'm not going to kick you out in a month. Deal with it in your own time, alright?" Greg said.  
  
"I will, thank you, Greg. I don't know how I can ever pay you back for this kindness," James said.  
  
"You don't. You don't owe me anything, James. That's not how this works," Greg said.  
  
"But I- you can't - surely, I just-" James couldn't get his head around that. Surely Greg would want something. Everyone wanted something. No one just let you live in their house for free for as long as you wanted. There was always a catch, always.  
  
"You don't owe me anything, James, trust me. Just let me take care of you. Whatever's happened to you, I don't want you to feel you need to tell me any of it in order to stay here. That's not what I do. If you need a bed, it's yours, no questions asked. Stay as long as you like."  
  
"But-but I can't - what's the catch? There's always a catch," James said, not believing he could just simply stay here.  
  
"No catch, no questions asked. Sometimes, lost boys just need a stable, safe place to stay while they get back on their feet, and that's fine. There's nothing wrong with that," Greg said.  
  
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on you like that," James said.  
  
"You're not imposing when I'm happy to have you here. Now, come on, come back to bed and try to sleep. You'll feel better after a good sleep and a good breakfast. We can always talk more in the morning," Greg said.  
  
James didn't really want to go back to bed, but he was beginning to feel sleepy, so he let Greg take him to bed, and he curled up in his arms and closed his eyes, trying to feel safe enough to sleep. 

* * *

  
_This is never going to last. Surely it can't last. Nothing good ever lasts in my life. It's my punishment for being such a bad boy with - with h-Ed. With Ed. Stealing from people. That's all I've done for the past five years. I stole things. I cheated people out of their money. I'm a liar, and a thief, and I should be in jail. _  
  
_But I never wanted this life. I didn't know what I was getting myself into. and Ed- Ed he loved me so much, or said he did. How do I know Greg's going to take care of me? Surely this won't last. Surely Greg will get tired of me, just like everyone else has, and I'll be back out there, alone, cheating people to survive. I mean, that's all I'm good for now, right?_


End file.
